Chapter 1: Memories
A lone figure in stark white armor crept silently along a ridge on the dusty, barren world that was Geonosis. His armor was splashed with red, the mark of a lieutenant in the Republic Army. He took a seat behind some jagged rocks that were so common on this merciless world. He tried to remember which direction his platoon was camped in. He'd been separated after a light skirmish with the Separatists. Funny, he thought, Separated by the Separatists.
The burble of the Geonosian language brought him out of his reverie. He peeked over the ledge and saw a pair of the strange aliens walking about ten feet below him. Unit Gamma 557, whose friends called him Vergil, sank behind the cover and took a deep breath. He checked the ammo on his rifle, and picked up a small rock.
A quiet patter silenced the Geonosians. They charged up their spears and one of them buzzed up to the ridge. He looked around, saw nothing, and shrugged to his companion. The second alien looked away, and heard to thuds. He looked back and saw his buddy lying on the ground, and a large rock next to him. He flew up to the ledge and found himself staring down the barrel of a republic blaster. Vergil walked over to the insect-like thing and bashed it over the head with the butt of his pistol. He didn't like killing unless he had to, a strange trait amongst the clones.
He trudged along the barren surface for few more hours. He spotted a cloud of dust in the distance. He brought he Optics to his eyes and zoomed in. Six stap vehicles were zooming along in his direction, followed by a pair of destroyer droids. Vergil's mind raced. He quickly set up two trip mines between some rocks, and waited for the droids to come into range. He jumped out from his cover and waved his arms, luring in the stupid machines. He then ran for cover as heavy fire from the staps rained in. Hope this works…He thought.
He risked a look around the boulder. The rust-colored droids were coming in fast… But only one was heading for his trap! Inside his armor, the lieutenant started to sweat quite profusely. He was done messing around; he brought his rifle to bear and started squeezing off bursts at the droids. He didn't like to kill, but these things weren't technically alive.
His third shot clipped a droid on the shoulder, knocking it off its vehicle, and the thing fell clumsily to the dirt. One stap finally hit Vergil's trap, and the mines detonated, decimating the stap, driver, and the boulders. Four shots hammered into one of the staps, and the thing spun out of control. The rider bailed just before the vehicle bashed into another boulder. Rounds started whizzing past the battle-hardened trooper as the shock of his preliminary attack wore off. He ducked as a few blasts flew by him, and one of the shots tore a whole in the ornamental ridge of his helmet. The destroyer droids soon found range, unfolded and proceeded to release their rapid blaster fire on his cover.
Combined fire from the staps and droidekas started to take their toll on the rock, and Vergil decided it was time to find somewhere else to hide. He gathered his legs beneath him and sprang out from behind the boulder. He finished in a roll and came up firing, unloading on the destroyers as he ran. Their personal shields came up, however, and his shots deflected harmlessly aside. The trooper cursed himself for stupidly forgetting about the shields, a mistake more experienced troops should never make, and again dove to the side and rolled to avoid fire.
He found a ditch and promptly dropped into a prone position inside it for cover. He tossed a concussion grenade at a passing stap, and it stuck, the driver completely oblivious. Two seconds later, it became painfully obvious. The device exploded, tossing shards of metal through the air and tearing through the flimsy stap armor. Just one left, Vergil thought as he jacked a new cartridge into his ammo slot. He popped up and let loose a hail of focused energy onto the remaining stap, punching a hole clean through the droids chest. All that remained were three battle droids and two destroyers.
He sank back down as the battle droids drew their weapons and began to fire at the trooper. He primed an EMP grenade and hurled it at the group of bots. They ran, but only one managed to escape its deadly anti-droid blast. Vergil ducked back down, a hail of fire from the droidekas now coming in. The remaining enemies began to coordinate their fire, keeping Vergil pinned down. He knew he didn't stand a chance. Even as he was thinking about what to do, he felt a sharp poke at the back of his helmet.
"Get up, scum," Said a voice in a buzzing drone. He slowly turned with his hands raised and came face to face with a blaster rifle, the droidekas' guns trained on him. Well, Vergil thought as he sighed, It's been nice knowing me. Suddenly, a blue streak whipped off the battle droid's head. The droidekas started to turn, and two EMP rockets hammered into their shields. The fields of energy began to flicker, and failed completely. They were immediately torn apart by a hail of blaster fire.
Unit Gamma 557 looked up to see who his saviors were (though he already knew) and felt his chest deflate in relief when he saw his platoon, waving jovially to him, Commander 550, who was called Boss, standing at the head of his troops. All the boys had come in search for their buddy Vergil. Vergil had never doubted his friends. He knew they would find him eventually. The 5th platoon of Gamma Company went on to become highly decorated heroes of the Clone Wars.
The blaring of the wakeup alarm shook Unit 557, formerly known as Vergil, from his sleep, interrupting his dream. He got up off his cot, and started donning the armor of an Imperial Stormtrooper. He reluctantly plucked his Stormtrooper helmet from the stand, looking at it with distaste. Rather than the helmet of the Republic Clone trooper he used to wear, which brought hope to the people, the new helmets, with their grim slashes for mouths, only incited despair. Who are we going to terrorize today, he thought to himself, and tucked it under his arm.